


The Boys Are Back In Town by Thin Lizzy

by powerfisting (decepticute)



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Disabled Character, Drabble Collection, M/M, Polyamory, Trans Male Character, literally the MOST self indulgent thing ive ever written, murder i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decepticute/pseuds/powerfisting
Summary: what happens when you mix a chaotic playboy with brain trauma and a hero complex, a suave merc with a talent for card hustling, and a super aggressive kleptomaniac that hates words and loves punching? idk but theyre in lovethis is where i dump my disconnected scenes about my new vegas ocs, basically





	1. Why Don't You Do Right

**Author's Note:**

> first fic ive posted since 2016 lmao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the part where angel (my courier) and his good good merc husband barrett reunite for the first time after The Bullet

Barrett was nursing the last of a rum and nuka in an NCR bar when he caught a glimpse of a familiar face that almost knocked him on his ass in surprise. At first, he thought the booze was affecting him more than he thought, but after a few seconds and a second, third, and fourth look, it became clear that he wasn’t just seeing things. If it had been anyone else, the bounty hunter wouldn’t have been as stunned. But the man in question had ceased correspondence months ago, and with a combination of the way things in the Mojave were in those days and the way the man lived, Barrett had partly assumed Angel was dead. 

It was obvious that he shouldn’t have been so quick to assume that, though, as Angel was standing right there-- in relatively rough shape, but very much alive. He’d lost an arm sometime between then and the last time Barrett had laid eyes on him, and he was limping slightly, bleeding from behind a few shoddily placed bandages. Nothing vital, it seemed, but enough minor wounds to slow him down. Overall, the bounty hunter had seen him in worse condition.

Angel, wincing, managed to get himself upright on the stool next to Barrett, leaning uncomfortably on one elbow to keep his balance. He seemed to want to raise his right arm for something and, frustrated to find it gone, began to try and perform the same gesture with the arm he was leaning so heavily on. After a while, he gave up with an exaggerated groan, pressing his face down against the bar.

“Don’t be a quitter,” teased Barrett, hoping to catch his friend off guard while making his presence known.

Angel was indeed caught off guard when he heard the unexpected voice, but not in the way Barrett had hoped. There was a cloud of something like confusion in his eyes as he looked up. Like it was taking a while for him to process what was being said, or even that someone had spoken to him. It faded almost as soon as it was noticed, however, into something different. Something more familiar. 

“Nobody tells me what to do,” said the courier, grinning slightly. “Not even handsome strangers.”

Strangers? Was this a game? Barrett smiled, deciding to play along. “Handsome, huh? Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you. So… What were you trying to do just now?”

He performed a half-hearted shrug, head still on the counter. “Reach into my pack and get some caps for a drink. But… I dunno. Moving sounds like a pain in the ass—literally, I think. Because, like... everything hurts. Literally everything.”

Barrett called Lacey over and got the man a drink. “Now I don’t have to watch you struggle. You’ll have to move to drink it, though, if you think your ass is up for it.”

“Smooth.” Angel pushed himself into an upright position, only wobbling slightly. “Easier than I thought, but… You might have to hold me up. Y’know. For safety.”

“Safety, huh?” asked Barrett, quirking a brow. He played along, wrapping an arm around the courier’s waist as he downed a good fraction of his drink in one go. “I wouldn’t want you to fall or anything. Might ruin your pretty face.”

Angel shook his head and laughed quietly. God, had Barrett missed that laugh. “You got me a drink, put your arm around me, and now you’re calling me pretty? Whatever you want from me, it’s already yours.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Trust me—I’m not. What’s a place like this doin’ in a nice guy like you?”

“Could ask the same of you,” said Barrett. “You’re a little fucked up.”

Angel shrugged. “Came here to get a little more fucked up, and then sleep it off in a free bed. Thought maybe the two together would take the edge off.”

“What happened?”

“Fuckin’ Powder Gangers got me by surprise not too far from here. One of ‘em threw dynamite at me—missed me, but got me distracted just long enough for the other one to slash at me a couple times before I could gun ‘em down.”

“Is that it?” asked Barrett.

“With my luck? Of course not. I fix it up, waste a stimpack so I can make it back here, and a goddamn radscorpion gets the drop on me under the cover of night.” He gestured to his right leg and shook his head. “Cheap shot. The venom’s fucking with me a little, so I think it looks worse than it is.”

“I’m set up for the night just outside the outpost, if you can make it that far,” said Barrett, rubbing Angel’s shoulder lightly. “I’ve got some anti-venom and a decent first aid kit. Why don’t you spend the night with me?”

“So soon?” teased the courier as he playfully bumped into his side. “What will the neighbors think?”

“Let them talk,” countered Barrett, grinning. “Come on, seriously-- I want to get a better look at your stings. We both know how bad they can get when they’re ignored.”

“Can’t you do that here?”

“Less privacy.”

“So you want privacy.”

“No. I mean… Yes, but…” He shook his head, face hot. “Look at you. You’re…”

“Rogueishly attractive?” asked Angel, grinning.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you that,” said Barrett, squeezing the shoulder. “If you want to, we can ‘have privacy’. If you don’t feel up to it, though—”

“I can handle anything if I can be vertical for it,” the courier assured, finishing his drink. “And I’m hoping that’s what you had in mind.”

“I was hoping the same thing.” As Barrett helped the man up, he happened to be close enough to murmur right at the meeting of his companion’s jaw and ear, just softly enough so that only he could hear it. “God, what I wouldn’t give to kiss you right now.”

“Dare you,” said Angel lowly, with a dangerous grin.

“Everyone’s watching. They’ll… You know. Talk.”

“Let them talk.” 

\---

"You never told me what you're up to these days," Barrett said, pouring some vodka on a clean rag and then dabbing it at a cut just below Angel's eye as gently as he could.

The courier still winced slightly, but tried to answer without gritting his teeth too noticeably. He _did_ have an illusion of nonchalant bravery to maintain in the presence of his handsome, clearly interested companion, after all. "I'm looking for someone." He paused. "Actually, make that _two_ someones, but... For two totally different reasons."

"Yeah?"

"One shot me in the head," he continued, as casually as if that were something that normally happened to people. A mild annoyance, like a few caps lost to a talented pickpocket. "Left me in a shallow grave outside Goodsprings." Noting the sudden loss of color in Barrett's face, he added, "Oh, don't worry, I'm tough. It's gonna take a lot more than one bullet to get rid of me... Which is bad news for the bastard that did it. When I find him, we're gonna exchange some words. And _fists_. And... possibly something involving fire? Haven't worked out the logistics of the situation yet... The point is, I'm gonna make him pay."

Barrett felt faint. Felt sick, almost, with the words he didn't want to believe settling, heavy, in his stomach. "Jesus Christ... He shot you in the head?"

"... Yeah? Do you....not believe me, or...?"

"No, no, I just..." The mercenary took a shaky breath. "I'm glad you made it, that's all. Are you okay?"

Angel shrugged. "I lived."

"I meant... in general. Something like that's bound to leave some unpleasant side effects..."

"Eh, I'm still getting used to the aftermath,' he admitted, then paused. "Actually, that has to do with the other someone. The second guy I'm after."

"Who is he?' Barrett asked, not quite getting the connection.

"Damned if I know. i don't have a face, or a name, or anything concrete like that. I just... get feelings, I guess. Shit that seems like memories... Like... Quotes in my head I didn't come up with, scattered details I might have made up, only... only I don't think I did.' He laughed softly, almost in apology. "It sounds fucking crazy, and... I mean, I am, without a doubt, but... he's out there."

"For what it's worth, I think so too," said Barrett, lightly tucking a lock of hair behind Angel's ear. It had grown since they last met, now long enough to easily hide a recent scar at his temple, the sight of which made Barrett grimace, guilty. He didn't want to think about what his partner had gotten into without him, but he knew he had to. "I'll help you find him."

Angel looked surprised, like he wasn't expecting the offer, despite the fact that he should've known by now that this was far below the limit of the other man was willing to do for him. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to." Before he could argue, he added, "C'mon. Give me everything you've got, and I'll see what I can do with it."

"...Sometimes I get reminded of him. Weird shit. Like.... Caravan. Y'know... the card game? Some guy in Goodsprings asked if I knew how to play, and... I wanted to say yes."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because I don't. I'd never even heard of it before he said that, but... It meant something to me somehow."

Barrett raised an eyebrow at him. "We've played Caravan together."

"...We have?"

"I taught you. Do you not remember?"

Angel looked as though he'd been struck, eyes widening in mortification. "Shit, did I know you? Fuck, I'm... I'm sorry. I don't remember shit from before..."

Then, suddenly, it all made sense. The lack of recognition he sensed at the bar. Calling him a stranger when they'd slept side by side for half a decade. The underwhelming reunion and lack of explanation for his absence. Barrett began to notice, in hindsight, how differently Angel had been treating him since they reunited, and the summation of missed clues knocked the metaphoric chair from under the headhunter's feet and stealing the breath from his lungs.

"I thought we were doing a bit..." Barrett managed finally, sounding weak. "Just...flirting around. It seemed like something we'd do, a stranger routine. I-I thought..." He drew an uneasy breath and tried to regain his composure, but ultimately failed almost comically. "I don't know what i thought... I'm sorry. God, Annie, I'm sorry..."

"No, no, I'm sorry. I probably should've led with that, since--" The courier cut himself off, squinting. "Wait... 'Annie'? How long have you called me that?"

"Always. Why? ... Do you want me to stop?"

He shook his head. "No, no, just... It felt familiar. Like... caravan. And... Primm. He was waiting for me in Primm, wasn't he?" 

Barrett blinked, confused. "... I was waiting for you in Primm."

"You were?"

"You were going to come back after you finished a job. I must have waited for a month or more, not knowing..." A pause, as the merc put two and two together. "... You don't think...?"

He wasn't able to finish the thought before Angel's lips were on his for the first time in too long.


	2. Ring A Ding Ding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> annie gets his revenge on chandler bing and doesnt know how he feels afterward

“Well. This is it.”

Angel’s eyes were fixed on the casino’s gaudy entrance. “Uh-huh.” His face was blank, unreadable.

“Are you ready?” asked Barrett, concern in his voice. 

The courier spun around, expression shifting to one of complete bewilderment. “Am I ready? He tried to kill me, he stole from me, he fucked up my head—he made me forget _you_!” He sniffed, straightening his shades with a shrug. “So yeah. I’m ready.”

“You sure you don’t want us?” Hank clarified. “Or… me? Just me?” 

Angel grinned slightly. “You wanna see, don’t you, Hank.” It wasn’t a question. 

The thief’s ears went pink. “I’m just sayin’! Maybe you could use some backup, just in case.” 

“I can handle myself, babe. You know that.” 

“I’m with Hank,” said Barrett, crossing his arms. “He’s got home field advantage, and you don’t know how many guys he’s got waiting for you once you get inside… I think you should take one of us. It could get ugly in there.” 

Angel shook his head. “I told you, it’s a me-and-him thing.” With that, he pulled the door open, and without looking back, he added, “Wait outside for me.” 

That was really all that was left for the two of them to do—wait. Hank kicked at the dust gathered on the crumbling cement at his feet, while Barrett silently drove himself mad with thoughts of what could go wrong without all three of them there. He knew that casinos inside the strip barred weapons as a general rule, but seeing as Angel’s target ran the joint, who knew what allowances would be made. Could owners be counted on to follow the rules of their own establishments? Experience told Barrett it all depended on the character of the individual, and leaving a man for dead over a parcel was the sort of act that led one to question an individual’s character. 

On the other hand, there still remained the question of what Angel would do when asked to leave his guns at the door. Would he actually leave all of them as requested? Unlikely, unless he was playing an angle. If he left everything, it was because he had an idea of questionable rationale. No, the chances of him going in to face Benny completely unarmed were near none unless he himself wanted it that way. Which, Barrett realized with a grimace, was more likely than he was personally comfortable with. Also uncomfortably likely was the possibility that Angel would react to the demand with violence, or at the very least, some grand show of anger that would compromise his revenge plan. 

In truth, there was no telling exactly what the man would do, in this circumstance or any other. Barrett would have liked to have been able to tell himself that it was the result of the brain injury, but he knew that his partner was never exactly the most predictable of men. Still, the trauma exacerbated his existing reckless tendencies in ways that Barrett worried would lead to his early demise—if his missing arm was anything to go on. He knew that Angel was more than capable of handling himself, but considering the dangerous way that his lack of impulse control and poor planning skills combined, he normally preferred to accompany the man on business like this. 

Barrett didn’t have to wonder for very long, as Angel returned within the hour, a bit bloodied and bruised, but otherwise perfectly fine. 

“We’re gonna wanna go, probably,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Freeside. “Maybe they won’t figure out I did what I did if we get gone fast enough.” 

When the three got to the King’s School, Barrett took Angel to an empty bathroom to take a look at him. Hank, probably sensing an imminent emotional discussion, disappeared almost immediately. He was likely off starting trouble with Freeside thugs and would be back, a little roughed up or a little high, much later in the night. 

Barrett gently dabbed a cloth at Angel’s bloodied lip, brow furrowed. “Well, you didn’t come out wholly unscathed, but if you ask me, it’s a hell of a lot better than how we usually end up.” 

“Should’ve seen the other guy,” said Angel with a hollow, forced laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “He’s dead, so I’m calling it a win.” 

“What’s wrong?”

“I think a bullet clipped my arm. Might wanna get that Mick guy to take a look at it while we’re here.” 

“Angel.” 

“Just ‘til we see Raul again. Y’know. Stop-gap shit.” 

“Are you okay?” asked Barrett, frowning. ” 

Angel shrugged. “I dunno. I’m happy, I guess.” 

“Just?” 

“Just… disappointed, maybe.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Guess it all happened too fast. I was expecting it to be more dramatic, y’know? I thought I’d go in and say some cool one-liner, and then I’d get my revenge, and it’d be fuckin’ awesome. And I thought it’d make everything… y’know.” 

“Better?” 

“Different, at least. But no, everything’s like it was. Didn’t make my brain any less fucked. Didn’t give me back all the time I spent on this goddamn manhunt.” 

“But did it make you feel better?” 

Angel paused, then sighed and buried his face in one hand. “Not as much as I thought.” Barrett put an arm around him, pulling him close to his side. “It’s like—I expected him to get scared, I guess. To actually apologize, or cry, or something. Just react somehow. But y’know, somehow, right up to the end, it still felt like he had the upper fucking hand.” 

“How’d it go down?” 

Angel shrugged. “Went up to the bastard’s suite to ‘talk’, and I thought… Yeah, ‘talk’. We’ll talk real good, up there, with no witnesses. I was feeling so fuckin’ good about everything right then, ‘cause I even got him to leave his little bodyguards downstairs. Thought he was scared, but… No. Just shocked to see me alive. But he got over it real quick, trust me.  
“And then once we were up there, alone, with him acting that way, I just…” He shrugged. “I couldn’t do it like I planned. Got overwhelmed, kept talking to him. Dunno why, just… couldn’t stop. When I got a chance, I was so fucking angry I froze up, got all shaky, couldn’t think of anything to say. And when he finally got up to leave—that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. Don’t remember much of it, but I know I beat him to death with my bare fists. Strangled him against his own pool table and snapped his fuckin’ neck just to be sure.” 

“You mean you actually gave them your guns?” 

“What? Not all of them—not that I remembered. I was just really fucking angry.” 

“What the hell did he say to you?” 

“Nothing too bad. But he kept calling me ‘baby’, and I couldn’t fucking stand it.” 

“I don’t blame you.” 

“I got shot in the head—the least the son of a bitch could do was be scared when I was there to kill him. But you know the worst part? I used to know what I was doing with myself. Track him down, kill him, get my shit back. But now? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

Barrett kissed his forehead. “Whatever the hell you want.” 

Angel shrugged. “Whatever gets caps, I guess.” Then, after a pause. “Heard Vegas does weddings.” 

“Weddings, huh?” A wistful smile spread across the bounty hunter’s face. 

“What?” 

“It’s nothing. All in the past.” 


End file.
